


Andante, Andante

by Erea



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, dick is kinda a hoe but it’s ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25146553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erea/pseuds/Erea
Summary: Dick’s wanted to take you out on a date for a while. Not that you know that - he’s just a friend helping you get over a shitty ex, right?
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 156





	Andante, Andante

“Let me take you on a date”, Dick says.

Your eyes flit up to meet his smiling blue ones - a stark contrast to your own tears. “What?”, you manage to choke out between stuttering breaths. Dick just tightens his arm around your shoulder, and his grin widens to reveal his perfect teeth.

“You heard me,” he repeats as if it’s the most casual thing in the world. “Let me take you on a date!”

_Is he being serious?_ Although it’s nothing like Dick to tease you like that (not when you’re in this state, at least), you can’t help but think that maybe he’s just being Dick, flirting, even though he’s never been as casually flirty with you as he is with other men and women. But a quick search of his face reveals the truth - he’s genuinely asking you, his brilliant blue eyes crinkled at the corners with kindness and those full, pink lips perked up into a disarming grin.

Still, though, you can’t believe he’s asking you on a date. You can’t deny that he’s been your rock ever since your last boyfriend dumped you two months ago, and even while you were still together. Whenever you knocked on his door in tears after your boyfriend had yelled and kicked you out, Dick was there. Every time you’d called him, devastated over your ex texting another girl, Dick brought your confidence back up and supported you. And, you suppose, you can’t deny that sometimes you’ve fantasised about _Dick_ taking you out for dinner, or kissing you, or even-

_But it’s just because he’s kind to you, right?_ It’s natural, you reassure yourself. Anyone would have these kind of thoughts about Dick Grayson. Especially when he’s comforted you with total patience throughout the entirety of your messy breakup.

He snaps you out of your daze by curling his hand around the one you hold limp in your lap. 

“Hey, you in there?”, he chuckles lightly. Ah, fuck. You really hope he hasn’t figured out what you were thinking about. “Have I stunned you that much by offering you a chance to wine and dine _the_ Dick Grayson?”

That actually makes you laugh, although it’s weak and quiet and broken in the middle as you reach up with your free hand to wipe at your nose. 

“Are you being serious?”, you ask. “Like, a date-date?”

“Of course I’m being serious!”, he cries out in mock indignation, jostling you with his shoulder. “You just look so sexy crying like this that I couldn’t resist!” You laugh again, louder and freer this time, and you can’t help but thank God that he’s in your life. You rest your head on the shoulder of the arm that’s still wrapped around you tightly.

Letting out another small giggle, you reply, “And why would _the_ Dick Grayson want to take me on a date?”

Dick takes a moment to answer - he turns his head so you can feel his lips move against your hairline when he finally speaks. “I just want to see you happy again.”

You feel his thumb brush over the back of your hand, and your breath catches in your throat a little at his sudden change in demeanour. He’s softer now, a more serious note in his voice, but he still sounds so light - like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world for him to care about you this much. 

And then he lets out a laugh against your skin, and he’s back to being normal, jolly Dick. “And I wanna get in your pants... _obviously_.”

“You’re such a horny fucking teenager!”, you snicker, trying desperately not to think about the fact that you would let him. If he asked. Sniffing again, and noticing that your tears are long gone, you push up off the edge of the bed to head to the bathroom. Dick follows you like a puppy - huge smile still plastered over his face - and leans casually against the doorframe as you splash cold water over your puffy eyes.

Despite the fact you were sobbing not 5 minutes ago, you already feel markedly better; Dick has a habit of making you feel like all your problems just melt away. God, you wish you could do that. Life would be so much easier. Though, it’s not like Dick ever complains about helping you. In fact, he seems to genuinely enjoy it. It wouldn’t be fair on him to deny that he cares for you, after all the nights he’s spent holding you through your tears and everything he does for you.

There’s no other way to put it: Dick Grayson makes you feel like everything’s okay. 

“Soooo...”, he prompts from the doorframe, still leaning on it, still smiling. You make eye contact with him in the mirror and he winks. His question hangs unspoken in the air.

You know it’ll be okay if you say no. He’ll understand. He’ll get that you’re not ready, and he won’t push it - he’ll just laugh it off and keep being there for you like he always has. He has a way of putting you at ease that makes you explicitly aware that he would never, ever judge you or get upset with you for your feelings. Fuck, he’s amazing. 

There’s no pressure for you to say yes.

“Okay,”, you smile. “I’ll go on a date with you.”

///

He brings flowers to your door at 8PM that Friday evening. He knocks, instead of texting, and as soon as you open the door he tells you how stunning you look. He’s a charmer, Dick Grayson.

“Woah-“, you blurt out when you drop your eyes to scan him. “You-you look good.” (It’s the understatement of the century.)

From the very limited plan he’d texted you the previous evening, you’d known not to dress too fancy - it wasn’t _him_ , he’d said, to take you to some stuffy restaurant when he knew he didn’t need to impress you any more than he already has. He’d finished the text with a winking emoji that you didn’t bother to indulge.

_God damn, you’re impressed._ He’s wearing a simple black button-up, haphazardly tucked into blue jeans that cling just right to the defined muscle of his thighs, and you can tell he’s made an effort with his unruly hair instead of simply running his fingers through it for once. You’re surprised you don’t start drooling.

Dick’s eyes crinkle at the corners, full of warmth. “I wanted to at least try to look half as good as you.”

“Are you gonna flirt with me all night?”, you shoot back as you lock your door behind you.

“You know it.”

Dick leaves his car parked outside your building, because, well, ‘parking in the city centre is a bitch on a Friday’, meaning the two of you are forced to take the subway to the place he’s picked out. You don’t mind - it’s not like you were expecting a Wayne car to pick you up and chauffeur you - and, honestly, you’re kind of excited to have the extra time to talk to Dick.

Unsurprisingly, the subway car is packed full of people at this time on a Friday. The two of you are lucky enough to be able to slip into a corner spot, and the way Dick cages you in against the corner - those built arms on either side of your head, creating a little bubble of space for you even as the car heaves with people - makes your breath hitch in your throat. 

The noise of chatter in the car is loud, and Dick has to lean in slightly when he speaks. “I promise you’re gonna have a great time tonight.” God, there’s that smile again, stretched across his tan cheeks, and he looks so happy and honest and giddy that you feel a warmth in your chest. 

“Hmm,” you hum in mock thought, unable to resist the opportunity to continue the _almost_ flirty banter you’ve engaged in since he picked you up from the door. “I’m not planning to invite you in at the end of the evening, so I do hope you’re still able to, you know, show me a good time.”

Dick’s head tips back as he lets out a hearty laugh, exposing the dip of his throat and the thick ropes of muscle that cord around his shoulders. _Stop it. This isn’t a proper date, he’s just doing you a favour, right? Stop thinking about him like that._

His cheeks are tinged a little pink, you think, as he fixes his gaze back on yours. “Don’t worry, babe-“ he chuckles. “I can have fun with you in other ways, too.”

Even as you playfully poke his chest and roll your eyes, you can’t help but think about how you’re already having fun, and how, for the first time in months, you’re not thinking about anything other than the present. You don’t tell him - you know he already knows.

///

The restaurant he takes you to is a little obscure, though it’s well-known enough that you’ve heard it mentioned a few times, but tucked away from the bustling streets; Dick holds the door for you as you enter, and you’re welcomed by soothing jazz music and greenery climbing up the walls. It’s busy, but not chaotic, and the atmosphere is relaxed and calm. Clearly he has good taste, too.

“Do you bring all of your dates here?”, you ask as you’re led to your seats. Dick’s a bit of a player - you know from the tabloids- even if he doesn’t mean to be, and he seems to be on a date every weekend because everyone he meets just seems to fall in love with him. (You don’t manage to suppress the little surge of jealousy in your chest at that thought).

“No. Just you.”, Dick replies. Although you don’t look at him when he says it, almost too shocked to formulate a witty response, you do catch the hostess throw a pleased wink your way. 

Dinner flies by much faster than you’d like, even after you choose to have a drink at the small bar in the corner. Dick flirts with you shamelessly the entire time, never crossing the line into discomfort and instead making you feel _special_. He asks about your plans for the future, and your family, and although you’re sure he already knows half of it, he listens the whole time with rapt attention. 

In turn, he tells you about his work, and his travelling, and jokes about his siblings are going to love you when he brings you home to meet them. ‘Even Damian’, he says, ‘and Damian doesn’t like anyone’. 

Dick orders a strange-looking vegetarian pasta (too much green, you think, even if it is healthy). When you raise an eyebrow at it, he chuckles. “I’m on a bit of a health kick at the minute.”

“A health kick?”, you ask, genuinely incredulous. “You’re literally the healthiest person I know! I’m actually surprised you could fit me in tonight between all those workouts you do!”

Dick grins, and takes a sip of his water. You continue, a little more teasing this time, “Seriously, your body would put _Batman_ to shame!”

The grin widens a little. He has that look in his eye he sometimes gets, where he looks like he’s part of an inside joke you know nothing about. That’s Dick Grayson, though: charming and open, but at the same time intriguing and you can just sense all the quirks and secrets that lie below the surface. You can’t help but want to get to know them.

His knee brushes against yours under the table several times throughout the night, and not once do you pull away. 

Of course, he doesn’t let you so much as glance at the bill. He pays with his own card, not one of the countless cards you know Bruce supplies him with, and leaves a more than generous tip that has your hostess stunned. 

She lays a gentle hand on your arm as you rise to leave, and whispers, “You’ve got a keeper, there.” _Shit_ , you think, _she’s actually right._

Thankfully, the summer air has kept the night warm enough that you don’t regret not bringing a jacket. There’s a slight breeze now, though, that rustles Dick’s hair - not that you’re watching - and brings with it the smell of the city. It’s been a long time since you’ve been out like this, wandering through the streets with someone you care about so deeply, drinking in the night air and watching the streetlamps flicker and not worrying about anything other than the little world the evening has created.

Conversation flows easily as the both of you walk back to the subway station, and when Dick casually curls his fingers around yours, you have to fight the wave of giddiness that flies through you. It feels natural and easy, but you can feel the heat rising on your cheeks as you give his hand a small squeeze. (You don’t notice the similar pink tinge that flushes on his own face).

The subway is quieter now. You’ve not checked the time once this evening, but you’re glad it’s late enough now that you and Dick can easily find seats. There’s an old woman sat opposite you, reading, and almost everyone else either has music blasting from their headphones or their faces buried in newspapers.

Dick doesn’t offer you an earphone, or pull out a book, or opt to sit in comfortable silence; he keeps talking, about anything and everything that seems to spring to his mile-a-minute mind. You’ve always liked that about him. He can talk your ear off without ever becoming boring or annoying, unless he’s _trying_ to irritate you, and he has a way of drawing you in to the conversation with him until the two of you are in fits of laughter over the most mundane things.

Normally, you’d be embarrassed to laugh like that on the subway. You’d be afraid to stand out from the crowd so blatantly. But Dick, he stands out from any crowd, no matter where he is, because he’s just like that and that’s who he is and it makes you feel as though you’re like that too. You wonder how he does it.

By the time your stop comes, both of you have tears of laughter in your eyes. He takes your hand again as you rise from your seat, breathless with amusement and eyes twinkling like sapphires, and, fuck - you really can see yourself falling for him soon. 

The old woman looks up from her book as you leave, catching your eye, and gives you a knowing smile.

///

“You were right, Dick-“, you admit with a wide smile as you unlock the door to your apartment. “I did have a great time tonight.”

“Of course you did! I _told_ you you would!”, Dick replies, and you roll your eyes playfully as you turn to lean against the doorframe of the open door. Even though you’re exhausted, you don’t want the evening to end quite yet.

He appears to share the sentiment, and his eyes soften as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He seems almost nervous now, or at least bashful, and it reminds you of the moment his demeanour changed when he first asked you on this date. 

He clears his throat, and then speaks. “Seriously, though... I did have an amazing time with you tonight. I - if it’s okay with you - I thought it would be nice if you would let me take you out again - maybe?”

_Oh, shit!_

“As - well, not just as friends. Not that tonight was just as friends! I mean, it can be if you want it to be, but I just really -“

Dick tips his head back, and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, letting out a shaky exhale that turns into an embarrassed chuckle. 

When he meets your eyes again, he seems a little calmer, though he still has that bashful look about him. “What I mean to say is, if you’re happy to, I’d love to take you on another date.”

_You’re in! He’s felt it too, the sparks that have been flying between you all night, he must have - the waves of giddiness and happiness that have crashed over you all night, he’s saying that he’s felt the same, you can’t believe-_

“I’d like that too!”, you hear yourself blurt out.

Dick positively beams at you, and brings a hand up to run it through his hair. The uncharacteristic seriousness melts away from him like ice in the sun, the sun that radiates from his golden skin and pink lips and sapphire eyes. You can’t deny the warmth his light has brought to your chest this evening. You’re glad you’ll get to bask in it again.

“Great!”, he says. “I’ll text you in the morning so we can arrange a time we’re both free.”

As he speaks, you bring a hand up to massage your cheeks, and a frown knits between his brows.

“Is everything okay?”, he asks, concern blatantly obvious in his tone.

“No, no, it’s fine! Don’t worry-“, you giggle. “It’s just - my cheeks literally hurt from how much I’ve smiled tonight.”

He takes a step closer to you, close enough now that he could lean down and capture your lips in his if he wanted to. “I think I can fix that for you.”, he says, and shoots a ridiculously exaggerated wink that sends you into another fit of laughter.

You only stop when he takes your chin in his hand, gently, softly, turning your head slightly away from his, and his other hand falls respectfully high on your waist. Dick leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek - your eyes fall closed and you feel him smile against your skin - just centimetres away from your lips.

He lingers for a moment, then turns your head to the other side and kisses the other cheek as well. It’s absolutely electrifying, finally feeling his soft warmth of his lips.

Dick pulls away after a moment that you wish would’ve lasted forever, and you mourn the loss of contact.

“All better!”, he beams at you. He’s blushing. It isn’t awkward in the slightest.

“Ah-“, you sigh in a pleased tone, and you’re only exaggerating a little, your fingers tracing over the tingling his lips have left on your cheeks. “My knight in shining armour!”

He laughs, for the thousandth time this night. “I should let you get to bed.”

“You should.”, you respond, taking a step back into your apartment and resting your hand on the handle. “It’s not very heroic to keep a lady up late.”

As much as you want to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him, over and over until both of you are breathless - as much as you want to invite him in and tangle yourselves together in the sheets until you’re too exhausted to continue - as much as you don’t want him to leave, this is _fun_. It’s exciting and new and you’re enjoying the easy playfulness of it.

Dick smiles earnestly as you begin to close the door. “Goodnight, princess.”

You lean back against the door as soon as it closes, overwhelmed with how fucking happy you are right now, your grin threatening to split your cheeks wide open. All you want is to fall into bed and dream of him and find a cheesy text from him when you wake up.

You really, really can see yourself falling for Dick Grayson soon. In fact, you think you might already be.


End file.
